A rock among sands
by Vilian
Summary: Rey voluntarily lives on Tatooine as an exile. She tries to work through the trauma of Exegol events: a lone rock among sands, almost engulfed by sandstorms, desperately reaching above the ever-shifting surface.
1. Another sandstorm

_**A/N1:** This is, frankly, the weirdest thing in whole three years of my fic writing career. Literally no idea what am I doing here or where exactly this is coming from. It's an experiment, a venture unto uncharted territory, and I'm scared af. Enjoy or not, just don't hate me for this, please._

_Since I probably won't be posting anything else before the end of year, I'm wishing one thing for everybody, including myself: may the year 2020 be a better one than the 2019 has been. We all need a brilliant year, and maybe this is finally the time._

* * *

_Again, a nasty sandstorm. Another bad night._

The part of Tatooine where Lars household - _her household_ \- lies, is regularly plagued with sandstorms. Rey never sleeps well, but her nights when the wind is howling among buildings and the sand is scraping against walls, they are the worst ones. No matter how hard she tries, no matter how deep into meditation she falls, the wind always sounds like the mad laughter that had been piercing her ears over at Exegol. Rustling sand always sounds like the murmured prayers of devotees to the Emperor. Emperor Palpatine, grandfather she'd prefer to not ever meet, puppeteer who orchestrated all the tragedies in her life, as well as in most of the universe. Part of the family she has longed so much to learn of, the man was actually a monster, the greatest evil in the galaxy. It turned out to be a legacy too heavy to bear. Rey has borrowed a name from other family to hide ugly truth behind it; but also to draw strength from the name and, finally, to commemorate the name. Truth to be told, it's been a family as messed up as her own. Yet, the Skywalkers were also her real family, in a way.

Leia. Luke. Both with hearts split between duty and love, full of regrets, full of mysteries. Still, people closer to Rey than anyone within her memory.

Rey meets them, sometimes. One or the other, or both, they keep on showing up as Force Spirits, every now and then. Rey wants to talk with them, badly. There's still so many things she needs to ask about, so many things she wants to learn about - the Force, the universe, the people. They don't respond to her questions and pleas though, her yells and screams fall on deaf ears. Instead, they seem to simply watch her, when she's busy around the house, or on her way to get supplies, or maintaining moisture farm equipment. Always outdoors, they watch her for a couple of minutes from afar, and then disappear without a word. Rey doesn't know whether it's a silent approval of the life she's having, or maybe a silent disagreement to her choice. She won't know, unless they will tell her - which may, or may not ever happen.

Maybe they don't want to talk with her because of Ben.

Rey didn't ask to be brought back to life. Return to the Light didn't require Ben to sacrifice his own life. The last of Skywalker family, he should be the one to get back alive from that horrid place.

Rey can't recall the exact moment of her death. Nothing was lighter or darker, she can't even describe the state as emptiness or void - she simply wasn't there anymore at all, nothing to remember, no Force reaching her, no Force to be reached.

Things that Rey does remember, start with the immense warmth where Kylo put his hand, where the Force was seeping into her body. Upon focusing her eyes, what she's seen - Kylo's face without pain and hatred and darkness, or rather _Ben's_, with happy sparkles in his eyes, with lovely shy smile - it's the most incredible thing she's ever seen. And what happened next, Rey could spend eternity like this, feeling so safe, wrapped in arms of the good, caring person Ben truly has been, always. But then, something had to snap, just _had to_. While she was feeling wonderfully alive and bright with the Force as if on fire, he was literally dimming. Then Ben went limp, and so painfully cold - and gone, before they could even have a chance to talk.

_I didn't ask you to do this! Say something, talk to me! Come back!_

Rey wakes up to her own scream and streams of cold sweat dripping from her body. No matter how hard she tries, when sandstorm comes at night, her thoughts always follow the exact same path. From outside noises to the Emperor, then to Luke and Leia, and eventually to Ben; then she wakes up to the noise coming from her own throat. Rey keeps on reliving the same memory over and over again. Apparently, in her dreams she feels guilty for being alive, for living the life that maybe should belong to somebody else.

Fully awake, Rey does appreciate the gift of life. She's happy when doing simple house chores. She's happy when chatting with farm droids. She's very happy when watching desert sands inhabited by so many various creatures, with Force flowing through every single one of them. At night it gets more difficult though. When her body is at rest, Rey's mind sometimes wanders off into odd places. And them stormy nights, they are always this bad.

BB-8 beeps at Rey reassuringly from a corner, her faithful companion and the only friend. She still shivers, but manages to smile at him. Poor little one, by now he's well used to the night time disruptions, yet is concerned all the same.

Rey desperately needs some rest before the twin suns set up, she has so many tasks planned for the day. She wraps herself tightly in sheets, buries head between pillows and prays: for the storm to pass, for the noises to cease.

If Rey weren't so focused on denying her surroundings, then maybe, just maybe she'd be able to notice faint bluish light just outside her bedroom entrance. She doesn't notice anything though, and soon falls asleep again.

* * *

_**A/N2:**  
__Just to make some things clear: my OTP in Star Wars is RebelCaptain, and that won't change anytime soon. Rogue One is where my heart is, that's what my writing is mostly about.  
I'm not really a Reylo shipper. I'm not even a sequel trilogy fan. I do appreciate related stories every now and then, and the pairing grew on me, but I'm not an avid fan. I went for earliest __TRoS __screening possible to be just done with it. To learn the disastrous ending to the saga, and just happily continue on reading amusing Reylo smut like if nothing had happened.  
Indeed, I've managed to shrug off most of distaste over crap treatment literally everybody and everything got in TRoS; it would be case closed, if not for my curiosity. I mean, such a flat graceless ending, chopped off with a dull axe; even with someone who's trying hard to be neutral this doesn't sit right, it doesn't feel like an actual end, but lots of interesting yet wasted possibilities instead. The curiosity made me poke at the aforementioned possibilities, and that's the result of writing down the weirdness produced by my imagination._  
_Curiosity killed the cat, hope curiosity won't kill this guinea pig. Especially that the fic can go into pretty much any direction with next chapter, if there is ever one._


	2. Shadows of blue

_**A/N**: OK, I still don't know what am I doing in here. This is outside my comfort zone, in so many ways. Haven't decided yet whether to turn it into more regular Reylo, give it a non-Reylo ending, or just scrap and throw into recycle bin altogether. Time will tell, for now please enjoy this weird read._

* * *

Kylo Ren isn't entirely sure how much time has passed since the last day of his actual life. And he isn't really sure he's still that _Kylo Ren_ person either. People will remember him by the unspeakable evils he committed after turning away from the Light. For the whole Galaxy he's always going to be a murderer in black, surrounded by bloodshed and tragedy, the vile Kylo Ren. But to Rey, somehow he's confident, to her he's going to be just _Ben_. Always.

She's the only person still alive who had ever believed in him. She believed in him so much that in return he just had to believe in her. The power of his faith has turned out to be surprisingly strong. It's been so strong that it was only natural to pour all of the Force still in him, bright and uncorrupted, into her unnaturally still body. For just a couple of seconds he could enjoy the happiness in her eyes, the touch of warm lips and tender hands of this brave young woman against his own body. But they didn't have a chance to talk about their choices. Nothing was said of their ancestors' legacies, of the powerful bond they'd shared, of the miraculous thing they've just witnessed. The only achievement Ben could be proud of, the only decision that did not hurt anyone, at the same time was the last decision of his life. It had snagged him away from Rey before anything important could've been said or done. And it pains him still, an odd feeling in his present condition. He longs so much for the company of a person so different from him, yet with so much understanding for him. Ben still wants to talk with Rey badly, talk through the things they had in common and those that were making them different. He tries hard not to think _too hard_ about her. He's scared of how she'd possibly react now, days - or weeks, months, years - after their death.

Death is a funny word, usually meaning a definitive end to somebody's existence. Yet, Ben somehow knows Rey's alive as ever, and he's still - _still around_. He's without a physical body, but able to observe, think and feel. A shadow of himself, consciousness without physical body. Faceless. Weightless. A Force Ghost no less, as in the goodnight stories told by Mother and the Jedi tales told by Uncle Luke.

He's able to see the two of them sometimes, far away at the verge of the bluish void he resides within. Both had loved him, both have died disappointed with him. But now, pride is what radiates from them in waves, powerful and warm. It has something to do with his sacrifice, that he knows - but with which part, exactly? They won't tell, they never respond to his begging. And so, Ben doesn't know if it's because he finally had done something useful with his life; or maybe, because he had saved the right person, the one truly important to the Force; or maybe, just because he finally had died, after the atrocities committed during his not-so-short life. For some reason, they won't tell him.

There are others, too. They don't introduce themselves, so he can only guess who they are are, or when did they turned from living creatures into pale ghosts. They just watch him, whisper things too quiet to understand, and then slowly disappear. These shapes and voices he doesn't recognize, coming and going as they please - it's a mental torture. Maybe it's not intended as such, but serves him right anyway. Guilty of numerous murder sprees in the name of the Dark Side including killing a loving father, surely he deserves some kind of punishment - is this it?

In the stories he can recall, the specters were meeting living ones. They were shadows with own voice, translucent looks, and, sometimes, even ability to interact with physical objects. He wonders, suspended in brightness, if this is their - _his_ \- purpose: a chance to meet living creatures again, to help them, to guide them towards the Light Side. Would he be allowed to meet a person who have never really needed any guidance? The only way to know is to do it and face the consequences.

He used to be so sure that the bond between him and Rey is gone, cut by the double death. The forced bond that started as troublesome visions and evolved to a useful way of tangible contact - he longs for it, so much that it hurts. It was encouraging to know that there is someone _out there_. Someone who did not approve of his actions, but could understand him nonetheless. At some moments it was the only thing keeping him alive. But now, that he's dead? Without way of knowing how time passes by where he exists now - if it actually passes at all - he can safely devote his sole attention to the task of finding out what happened to that invisible connection. Ben tries to reach where the bond used to be anchored inside him. He mentally pokes and prods and claws at the place. To his surprise, something is still in there - as pale as he is, but eventually he does find _something_. It figures, he thinks - because if it were completely gone, how could he be so convinced that Rey is still alive? And so he tries to pull at it, to see where it goes, to follow it wherever it leads. _To Rey_, he hopes. He's a dead person, tracking a woman through time and space to haunt her. That's - unnerving. Well, it's downright creepy. Not that it'd scare Rey, not the person he can recall. So, hopefully, it won't.

Slowly, Ben learns how to focus on the bright Force flame that seems - _feels_ \- to be Rey. It's just as bright as her spirit, just as he remembers. There are others around too, millions and millions of flames, sparkles and glittering specks; grouped around the translucent spheres that he learns to recognize as planets and moons. They are celestial bodies and their living inhabitants, the Force present in each and every of them. But only this one burns so much brighter when he pulls the connection, so this has to be her. Ben prays to the Force that transformed him into this almost-person that he goes into the right direction

_To Rey._


End file.
